


Breathe With No Air

by mariuspondmercy



Series: As If [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Courferre Week, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-07 06:59:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7704874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariuspondmercy/pseuds/mariuspondmercy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac was hopelessly in love with his best friend, so much was true. Even if he wasn't one for admitting it himself, but he would -- eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Night Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Courferre Week Day 1 - Opposites Attract
> 
> This small scene works as a complementary scene to my Courferre fake dating fic As If but can be read and understood independently. It is set after the first part of chapter 3.

The morning after his heart-to-heart with Marius, Courfeyrac woke up in a much better mood than the past few days. It apparently showed, as Combeferre greeted him with a wide grin as soon as Courfeyrac entered their kitchen.

“Good morning, sunshine. You look well,” Combeferre smiled.

“Well and good,” Courfeyrac shot back, winking at him.

He went to grab his favourite mug but found it still in the dishwasher after using it last night. Never mind, nothing could dampen his mood today. He knew he had a great day at work ahead – at least his schedule told him so. He was excited for his interview with one of Paris’ upcoming singer-songwriter. She sang Folk, something Courfeyrac really wasn’t into, but he knew Combeferre sometimes quite liked it. Funny, he thought, how he was so attracted to a man who was so vastly different than himself. While Courfeyrac was usually bouncy and bubbly, Combeferre was calm and collected. Maybe that’s why it worked so well. The matched as friends after all, had been for years now.

“Well and good indeed,” Combeferre said. “Enjolras said to give you a hug from him, he had to leave early.”

“Sounds good. Can we do that after I’ve got my mug down? Why would you even put it up there? I’m not short, just… shorter than you and Enjolras.”

Combeferre chuckled softly and stepped behind Courfeyrac, reaching over his head to grab a yellow mug with sunflowers on – a gift from Jehan. Courfeyrac tried to let it slip how much Combeferre’s gesture affected him. Really, it was fairly inappropriate to pop a boner in front of your crush just because he’s helping you get a mug.

“There you go. Sorry, I should’ve placed it at the front of the shelf.”

“Thank you.” Courfeyrac turned around, face with Combeferre’s broad chest. Really, how could a person who worked so much, ate so much, and worked out so little be this built? Sure, Courfeyrac himself wasn’t too bad, he always walked to and from meetings and interviews if possible. But still.

Pouring coffee into his mug, Courfeyrac leaned against the counter. “So, the hug?”

“Of course.” Combeferre chuckled softly and, once Courfeyrac had placed the mug onto the table, pulled his friend into a tight hug. “With all of Enjolras’ love.”

“I will send him a message and thank him for it.”

Combeferre pressed a kiss to Courfeyrac’s cheek before letting go off him again. “I don’t have to get into work until this afternoon. When do you need to head off?”

“In about two hours. We could watch one of those alien documentaries, if you want to?”

Courfeyrac hated them, granted. Nothing made sense! Apparently ancient stone carvings told stories of alien landings all over the world, depicting strange-looking humanoids with helmets on. First of all, who said aliens were humanoid? Secondly, why the hell were they wearing helmets? Okay, maybe he was a little bit intrigued by them but he had a reputation to uphold. He did it for Combeferre, just like he knew Combeferre went to obscure theatre plays to please his friend.

“Yes!” Combeferre’s face lit up in an instant. “This episode we will find out that humans are actually descendants of those aliens. Can you believe it?”

“Hardly!” Courfeyrac laughed. He took his mug, snatched a croissant and curled up on the sofa next to Combeferre.

Now that he was comfy and close to his crush, Courfeyrac realised for the first time how little they actually had in common. Not just physically: there was the height-difference, the curls-vs-undercut hair. Courfeyrac’s idea of entertainment usually meant something loud, whether it be a musical, a night out or karaoke. Combeferre, on the other hand, preferred quiet nights in, game evenings with his friends. He was a calm storm, shaking everything in his waking. Courfeyrac was thunder, loud and vicious.

Maybe that was it. Maybe he was just really attracted to Combeferre because they complemented, completed each other. Combeferre filled his gaps – Courfeyrac’s brain berated him for having a dirty joke in mind at that.

While Courfeyrac drank his coffee with more milk and sugar and vanilla syrup than Enjolras claimed possible for a human being his size, Combeferre drank his coffee as black as a zebra’s stripes. Or was it their skin? Surely Combeferre would know.

“Ferre?”

“Mhm?” Combeferre sipped from his coffee and looked over at Courfeyrac, who had draped himself over his friend’s lap, chest and shirt full of croissant-crumbles.

“Is it the skin or the stripes of a zebra which are black?”

“How… what… Your mind, Courfeyrac, works in ways I will never understand.”

Courfeyrac chuckled lowly. “Sorry.”

“To answer your question: the skin isn’t black. It’s the hair that’s black. The white stripes occur due to a lack of colour. So it’s neither the skin nor the stripes which are white, but the hair.”

“Good to know, thank you.” Courfeyrac beamed up at him before focussing once again on the documentary and his thoughts.  

Opposites attract, wasn’t that it?

While Courfeyrac preferred the company of dogs, Combeferre was definitely a cat person, even though a small puppy could melt either man into a puddle of sap.

Sometimes, Courfeyrac felt as if he were the stars scattered across the night sky. Always all over the place, always here and there, always burning bright and shimmering. Sometimes burning so much, he burnt himself up. Combeferre though – oh, Combeferre. He was a steady presence, the black night sky ready to expand and welcome every and any being, no matter if moth, alien, human or planet. In a way, Courfeyrac thought, in a way Combeferre was all around him, engulfing him, helping him shine. What would the stars be without the night after all?


	2. Shout It From The Rooftops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Courferre Week Day 2 - Friends to Lovers
> 
> This small scene works as a complementary scene to my Courferre fake dating fic As If but can be read and understood independently. It is set before Marius' wedding in chapter 4.

Combeferre was sprawled on his bed, head in Joly’s lap. The smaller man was playing with the tight curls on top of Combeferre’s head, the other hand idly scribbling colourful lines into a colouring book.

“There’s a difference between being brave and being stupid, I told him, you know? I mean, don’t get me wrong, my boyfriend is a very brave person. But he’s also really stupid.”

Combeferre chuckled softly. “Jumping off a roof with self-made wings really is very stupid.”

“I know! But no, my darling boyfriend thought it brave and adventurous and of course Grantaire filmed the thing.”

“Mhm, Courf showed me the vine. I heard you cackling in the background.”

“Okay, I might’ve been drunk. We all might’ve been drunk. Bossuet and Grantaire might’ve tricked me into it because they said it’s a science experiment. They wanted to test out if gravity still applied when you’re drunk. I went along with their plan.”

Combeferre snorted and looked up at Joly. “Brilliant plan, I have to say.”

“The things you do for your best friend and boyfriend. And best friend who is also your boyfriend. Or boyfriend who is also your best friend? I have no idea.”

“Both and all?”

“Both and all,” Joly confirmed with a nod.

With a soft hum, Combeferre closed his eyes. He was silent for a bit until: “How did you transition from best friends to lovers? I know it from my out point of view. I know how obvious it was for us whenever we saw you two together.”

“Just as obvious as you and Courfeyrac?”

Maybe even more,” Combeferre chuckled. “No, seriously, how did it work? Because… because I really like him. And I’m fairly certain he likes me romantically, too. I can read him like an open book. He likes me.”

 “Have you actually talked to him about that?” Joly asked softly.

“No, not really. By that I mean: I haven’t talked to him about it but I have definitely flirted with him. I’m not sure if he picked up on it. He’s super perceptive except when it comes to love. Blind like a bat, that guy.”

“You two are so stupid.”

“Tell me about it,” Combeferre sighed.

“Just talk to him,” Joly said, leaning down to press a kiss to Combeferre’s head. “Communication is key. As for Bossuet and me… I don’t know. We lived together, unofficially. We shared my bed more nights than not. I was kinda starting to see Chetta but it felt like I was cheating on Bossuet? And she was kinda also seeing Bossuet, which got me jealous. It was all a great big mess and I was so confused. I never really realised I was into men until the desire to kiss Bossuet got really strong. He’s known he’s bi since forever so I just… talked him. Told him. He said we’re practically in a relationship anyway so why not make it official. And that was basically it. Once I started kissing him, I couldn’t stop anymore.”

“Despite the germs?” Combeferre teased his friend.

“I’ll have you know that shaking someone’s hand exchanges more germs than kissing. And I don’t let him kiss me just after he’s smoked unless I’m drunk because then the alcohol automatically sterilizes my mouth.”

“Perfect logic.”

Joly laughed silently and didn’t say anything more, just kept playing with Combeferre’s hair, humming some tune.

“Do you think Courfeyrac and I could work out?”

“You’re working out as friends and have been doing so for years and years and years. If you’re meant to be, you’ll notice it the first time you kiss. If it feels somewhat awkward, then you know the platonic feelings are stronger than the romantic ones.”

“I need to talk to him first. I don’t want to come onto him too strongly and scare him away.”

“I doubt you could ever scare Courfeyrac away. Look at the friends he has! A righteous political flame of fury, a doctor with a profound love for aliens, a dorky duckling who exclaimed under tears that he’d come to sleep with him… Nothing and no one can drive him away.”

“You might have a point there,” Combeferre laughed. “Okay, so… how should I talk to him? When? What do I say?”

“That, my friend, is something only you can decide. You can ease him into it, be gentle, tell him that lately you’ve noticed that you two are getting along better than before. You can tease him a bit, too, saying you’ve noticed that he’s been behaving differently around you. Or you can just throw him into the cold water and flat-out tell him you love him. You do love him, right?”

Combeferre contemplated it for a bit until he nodded. “Yeah. I love him. Oh God.” He started laughing. “Oh my God, I never said it out loud. Shit. I love him, Joly. I’m in love with my best friend and I have no idea how it happened but it’s the fucking best feeling in the world.”

“Do you want to shout it from the rooftops?”

“Yes! Wait, literally or figuratively?”

“Literally.” Joly shrugged his shoulders. “Enjolras showed me the other day how to get on top of your roof. So we could do it.”

“Wouldn’t that be weird?”

“Combeferre, live a little. You only have the first realisation that you love your best friend once in your life.”

“You know, I shouldn’t listen to your advice. You didn’t stop your boyfriend from jumping off a roof and breaking his arm.”

“I was drunk, it doesn’t count. So?”

“Okay, but… okay.” Combeferre got up and held out his hand to help Joly off the bed.

Together, they made their way to the rooftop. After Joly picked the lock, he led Combeferre out, holding his hand tightly.

“Go ahead,” Joly encouraged him, squeezing his hand softly.

Combeferre nodded softly and took a deep breath. “I am in love with my best friend.”

“Louder!” Joly urged him on. “So much louder!”

“I am in love with my best friend!”

“Even louder!”

Laughing, Combeferre yelled it even louder, until Joly was satisfied and their entire neighbourhood in Paris knew that one crazy young man was head over heels for his best friend.


	3. Oblivion Is Calling Out Your Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Courferre Week Day 3 - Oblivious Idiots
> 
> This small scene works as a complementary scene to my Courferre fake dating fic As If but can be read and understood independently. It is set before the first part of chapter 4.

Enjolras watched in amusement as Courfeyrac jumped on Combeferre’s back, demanding to be carried. It was Marius’ stag night and as Marius’ Best Man, Courfeyrac had ordered all their friends to the Corinth right after work. After two rounds of drinks, Courfeyrac had exclaimed that they would now move on to a mystery location. And yes, he had actually called it a _mystery location_. Enjolras suspected that they were on their way to the flat he shared with Combeferre and Courfeyrac.

Everyone knew Marius wasn’t one for parties and nights out, and Enjolras was certain Courfeyrac would respect his friend’s wishes.

Rounding the next corner, his suspicions were confirmed: they indeed headed towards their shared flat. Since Courfeyrac had had the day off, Enjolras was sure something special was awaiting them all. He’d bet on Spin The Bottle or Never Have I Ever; Courfeyrac loved those games too much for his own good. But Marius didn’t, so somehow Enjolras couldn’t imagine they’d play them that night. He was trailing behind a bit, keeping Jehan company at the end of the group. He idly observed his two best friends at the front, Courfeyrac pressing kisses to Combeferre’s cheek. He’s had a bit more to drink than the rest since he’d been at the Corinth longer to wait for everyone else.

Soon enough, Courfeyrac hopped down Combeferre’s back and unlocked the door to their flat.

“Okay, everyone, please, I gotta do one more thing because Marius is allowed in here. And I need a volunteer.”

“Can I volunteer?” Marius grinned.

Courfeyrac laughed and hugged him tight. “Of course not!” He kissed Marius’ cheek and took Combeferre’s hand, softly tugging him along. “You’re volunteering now.”

He laughed. “Apparently so.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes and smiled fondly. Those two were idiots and always have been. Still, this was different. They were flirting with each other and Enjolras wasn’t sure if they were even aware of it. Enjolras vowed to himself that he’d observe them a bit this evening. Alcohol was involved – and knowing Courfeyrac a lot of other things which might or might not shed light on the situation. A few minutes later, a giggling Courfeyrac opened the door, Combeferre standing behind him, grinning widely.

“Come on in! Marius first.” Courfeyrac grabbed Marius’ hand and dragged him into the flat.

The rest followed suit. Courfeyrac was quite the party planner – really, sometimes Enjolras wondered why he had chosen to become a journalist instead of a wedding or event planner – so it was no surprise that the flat was decorated to the max. There were fairy lights strung up all around the hallway and living room, three different bowls of punch on the kitchen counter, and the entire living room was decked out in mattresses, pillows and blankets.

“As a good Best Man, scratch that, as the best Best Man in the entirety of France, Europe and the world, I bought onesies for all of us. Sooo… pick up your parcel, change, and then we’ll proceed!” Courfeyrac beamed at his friends, pressing a kiss to Marius’ cheek.

Once everyone was wearing their respective onesies, which Courfeyrac had apparently picked out with great care to each friend individually, and sat on the cozy floor, Courfeyrac explained the rest of the evening. Since Marius had always wanted a sleep-over just like all the teenage girls had in the American movies, Courfeyrac had spared no effort to organize pizza, alcohol, an abundance of rom-coms and face masks.

“Of course,” Courfeyrac announced, “we’re going to start the evening with a good cheesy rom-com. And alcohol. Really, the punch is amazing! Combeferre made them, all three. So good.”

At that, Combeferre smiled softly, ducking his head and biting his lower lip. Oh no, Enjolras knew that gesture just too well. The first time he had seen it had been back in school. Combeferre had been 14 and their classmate Luc had complimented him on his science project. Combeferre had been a goner for that boy for two years but never acted on his feelings. If Enjolras’ observations and guesses were correct, he’d say Combeferre was definitely crushing on Courfeyrac – and not just a bit.

Marius groaned softly. “Okay, which one did you pick?”

“A truly good one for the beginning. We’re working our way up to the worst ones. So, _Easy A_ it is. And no one has to take off clothes when one of the characters does. Cause of the onesies.”

“Oh thank god, the undressing part is always the worst,” Joly laughed softly. “You can get sick so quickly from the draft.”

“There’s no draft in this room,” Bossuet grinned and kissed his boyfriend’s cheek.

“Not yet but just you wait. We’ll be all cozy and start sweating in our gorgeous and comfy onesies. Then R and Feuilly are going for a smoke on the balcony which inevitably means there’ll be a draft. You know what happens then?”

“Death and decay?”

“Now you’re being silly,” Joly chided him. “No, the draft will get us sick since we’re sweaty.”

Bossuet laughed and wiggled his eyebrows. “You never get sick after sex and we always open the window…”

“That… is different.” Joly blushed and scooted a little closer.

With everyone settled properly, and one of the punch bowls plus a few tubs of ice cream in the middle of their circle, Courfeyrac snuggled close to Enjolras. With his friend’s hand in his hair, Courfeyrac sighed softly and started the movie.

“Oh, and guys? I figured instead of getting undressed, you’ll take a shot whenever your character gets undressed or changed in any way. Marius as the husband-to-be of course always has to have the main character.”

Marius groaned but laughed. “Okay, I suppose that’s fair.”

“Of course, I’m always fair. Fair is my middle name.”

“Your middle name is Jean,” Enjolras chuckled.

“It is not!” Courfeyrac pouted. “Stop spreading rumours or I’ll tell everyone your middle name.”

“Also Jean,” Enjolras deadpanned.

At that, Combeferre just snorted. “Mhm, my middle name is Jean, too.”

“Jean-Two?” Courfeyrac gasped. “Well then I’m Jean-One. Anyway, concentrate. My middle name is Fair as in pretty. Combeferre, my gorgeous assistant with the wise eyes and the charming smile will now show you the alcohol. For the shots.”

Combeferre laughed and grabbed two bottles of vodka from the side. “Just, take a swig, you know? Easy as that. What would a good stag party be without getting drunk off your wits?”

“Thank you, lovely assistant,” Courfeyrac grinned. “Kinda missing the hot magician’s assistant dress, you know.”

“If you want to see me in one, just say the word. Besides, you picked out the onesie. Could’ve gotten me a dress like that. Midnight blue and sparkly, like Anastasia in that movie?”

“Now we’re talking,” Courfeyrac smirked.

Enjolras kissed Courfeyrac’s temple, mostly to hide his smile at his friends’ behaviour. This was definitely intentional flirting. Now the only question remaining was if they knew the other did it, too. Courfeyrac was a journalist, Enjolras read each and every article. From a simple, subconscious gesture his interview partner made, Courfeyrac could craft an entire article about why this politician was a fraud. He was perceptive, clever, he saw things no one else saw. Usually Courferyrac was amazing at picking it up when someone had a crush on him. Hell, he had even known it before Marius had realised it, back in the day! But he couldn’t with Combeferre? What an oblivious idiot.

“You know,” Marius said halfway through the movie, “I always wondered if maybe the really Christian girl isn’t just gay and that’s why she’s so obsessed with Olive. She likes the rebellious note.”

“Like you do?” Courfeyrac snorted.

“Oi! I’ll have you know my fiancée is very rebellious. Rebellious enough for me. If I could bake my perfect partner, they’d be just like her. Exactly like her.”

Enjolras saw Joly cast a quick glance at Combeferre before directing his attention towards Courfeyrac. Huh. Interesting. Definitely something that should be explored at some point.

“So…” Joly started, “since my perfect partners would be just like my actual partners, what about all the single guys? Courfeyrac? How would your perfect partner be?”

“Hmm…” He leaned against Enjolras and contemplated the question for a few moments. “Uhm… they’d need to be my friend first and foremost. I need to be comfortable with them to completely let go. If we’re talking actual perfect partner I might want to go steady with, you know? I need someone who can read me. Someone who makes me laugh and challenges me, someone who calls me out on my shit. Dark hair. Taller than me. Those are my only requests, I think. Someone who makes me feel very safe, yeah.” He laughed. “I never really thought about that, you know? Does that mean Ferre has to tell us, too? He’s single!”

Combeferre groaned. “Okay. My perfect boyfriend slash husband needs to make me laugh, too. Definitely someone I could also be friends with. You can’t marry someone who’s not your best friend! Someone who matches me intellectually but not a doctor. Oh god no, I could never be with a doctor! I want to be challenged and not just have medical talk everywhere all the time. You guys now that I sometimes have a hard time letting go off what happened at work, so I need a boyfriend who can get me out of my own head. Appearance-wise… shorter than me. I like dimples. Yeah, dimples would be cute. Warm eyes, not the colour but just the feeling they give me. Cute smile. I’m a sucker for smiles, it’s the first thing that wins me over. I need someone who’s really into communication because it’s the most important in a relationship. Someone I can talk to for hours without it getting boring. Yeah…” He chuckled softly. “Enjolras, what about you?”

“Me? Uhm…” Enjolras shrugged his shoulders. “Honestly? I have no idea. I just want someone to believe in me and to support me. That’s all I really want in a partner.”

He smiled softly and kissed the top of Courfeyrac’s head. “But I’m glad we cleared that up. Now I can play matchmaker if I know someone who fits your descriptions.”

Combeferre’s gaze flitted over to Courfeyrac before settling on Enjolras. “I trust your judgement.”

Enjolras smirked and reached over to squeeze Combeferre’s hand. Judging by the look on Jehan’s and Joly’s faces, at least he wasn’t the only one who saw how oblivious his two best friends were.


	4. A Certain Dramatic Flair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'm a day late to the party but here's Courferre Week Day 4 - So Much Pining
> 
> This small scene works as a complementary scene to my Courferre fake dating fic As If but can be read and understood independently. It is set after Courferac told Marius about his crush on Combeferre.

“No, you don’t understand!” Courfeyrac exclaimed and dramatically threw himself on Marius’ bed. “His hair looked especially good today. Not just as good as it usually does. I mean, it’s always an 11/10, always! But today?” Courfeyrac groaned and buried his face in Marius’ pillow.

He was glad he had finally confessed his feelings to Marius, because he could finally have these sorts of outbreaks. It had been so hard to always keep his frustration over the attractiveness of Combeferre to himself, but now that Marius knew? The poor boy had probably received twenty text messages within the last hour about how unfairly gorgeous Combeferre was.

“What was special about his hair today then?” Marius curled up in bed and ruffled Courfeyrac’s curls.

Luckily, Marius knew exactly what to do, which questions to ask. Mind you, he’d been through that phase with Cosette, too, and Courfeyrac had been there for him. So of course Marius knew what to do. And of course Marius was there for his best friend.

“I don’t know,” Courfeyrac mumbled into his pillow before turning over to face Marius. “He came out of the shower, only wearing shorts, and his hair was still wet and he ruffled it and it looked so good. So good, Marius, oh God, he is so gorgeous. I just wanted to lick the water off his collarbone.”

Marius started to laugh and hit his friend softly with a pillow. “You can’t even properly reach his collarbone!”

“Of course I could! I managed to reach yours.”

“Yup, but I’m also a couple of centimetres shorter than Combeferre.”

“Can Cosette reach yours?” Courfeyrac wiggled his eyebrows, which promptly earned him another hit with the pillow.

“She can, yes, but only when I bend down a little…”

“Feels really good, doesn’t it?”

Marius blushed. “Really, Courfeyrac? I’ve done that to you! You know how good it feels! Now stop embarrassing me and embarrass yourself by telling me more about how perfect Combeferre looked today.”

Courfeyrac groaned and threw his arms up in the air. “You have no idea! He is so gorgeous! And he smiled at me!”

“He always smiles at you,” Marius laughed and kissed his cheek. “You’re his best friend.”

“I know! But it was enchanting. You have no idea how bloody gorgeous he looks when he gives you this really special smile and his eyes get crinkly and his eyes, they just shine, Marius, they shine!” He sighed deeply and threw his arms over his eyes. “You don’t understand. It’s like… have you ever seen mosquitos caught in amber, like a fossil? When the light shines through them, they shimmer in a thousand shades of brown and orange and red. It goes from red as deep as blood over honey-coloured to a really dark and warm brown. It leaves you breathless. Just like Combeferre’s eyes.  They shine and shimmer, Marius. Do you have any idea how that feels?”

“No, I have no idea how it feels to be head over heels in love. I also don’t know how it feels to pine, y’know? I especially don’t know how stupid people in love can be, or how blind.”

“Who made you such a sarcastic little shit?”

“Partially my absent father figure, partially Grantaire.” Marius shrugged his shoulders. “Though that’s the same, considering Grantaire also has Daddy Issues.”

“Don’t, Marius. Please. Not… Oh God, my mind is already starting to wander!”

Marius laughed softly and snuggled closer. “Sorry! We can go back to talking about Combeferre, if you’d prefer that?”

“Great!” He groaned and softly punched Marius’ shoulder. “Now I have to think of Combeferre and Daddy Issues and that is not a road I want to go down right now.” Courfeyrac sighed dramatically and kissed Marius’ forehead. “He’s just so great, you know? When he’s up in the morning and knows I’ll be awake soon, too, he makes sure to have my favourite mug cleaned so I can have a good start into the day. He’s so kind! He just doesn’t… he doesn’t love me, not like that. Why did I have to fall in love with my best friend, Marius? It’s really not fair. It hurts so much, deep inside of me. When I see him, I feel on fire. I feel it when I don’t see him.”

Marius hummed softly and ran his fingers through Courfeyrac’s curls. “And it feels like the fire is warming you up, making you feel so comfortable and home, so right while it at the same time feels like you’re burning, but unable to stop touching the flames.”

Courfeyrac nodded softly. “Yes, that’s it!”

“It also feels like you’re floating on water, it’s nice and warm and you’re on your back, the sun shining onto your stomach. But every now and then a wave comes and you swallow some salt water.”

“Mhm.” Coufeyrac hummed in agreement and scooted closer. “Yes. It makes you want to scream but you also want to dive right back in again. Love is cruel and wonderful. But why Combeferre? It makes no sense! Why not Enjolras? I’m just as close to him as to Ferre.”

“You can’t choose where your affection falls. Love is completely unreliable and random. I never thought I’d be into brunettes yet here I am. I’ve only been involved with people who have brown hair. I’m even marrying one! Granted, I’ve only ever been with two people but still! You cannot decide to love this person or that person or to not love someone who’s toxic. You’ve fallen in love with your best friend and now you’re pining. So what? Either you’ll fall out of love or it works out. Seeing as you’re gorgeous, hilarious, kind, sweet and loving, I’m sure the latter will be the case.”

“You’ve become to grown-up. Who do I blame for that?”

“Cosette, I’d say. She’s definitely my better half.”

“Nah, you’re pretty perfect on your own, she just complements you like you complement her.”

“It’s the same with you and Combeferre. You’re not polar opposites, you’re similar enough to still be different. I think that’s what makes a good relationship. You trust him, he makes you laugh, you practically swoon when he’s half naked. Have you tried being half naked in front of him?”

“Plenty of times. Doesn’t have the desired effect, unfortunately. He just stares for a second and then goes on with his day as if I was wearing a shirt. I tried nothing but a towel around my waist, I tried clingy sport clothes, I tried an unbuttoned shirt, I tried only boxer shorts. Nothing.”

“Ah, but I’m sure you’re sure he doesn’t know that you pine when he’s half naked. So how would you know if he were to pine?”

“You’ve got a point there. I’ll try a few more things and tell what comes off it. It’ll be a science experiment.”

“You gotta write it down then.”

Courfeyrac laughed. “True, that’s what Ferre always says: It’s only science when you write it down, otherwise it’s boredom. He’s so clever! Isn’t he just so clever? Marius, I’m sorry, but you will need to listen to my ramblings about Combeferre now.”

“As you have patiently listened to mine about Cosette. I’m sure you’ll end up just as happy as I did.”

Courfeyrac sighed and nodded softly. “Eventually, yeah. When I can muck up the courage to tell him how I feel. I’m sure it won’t destroy our friendship. He values me too much to let me get away. Isn’t that just amazing? I mean, it only shows how great of a human being he is, not wanting to hurt his friends at all. Ever. My god, I love him so much. When I get home, I need to hug him real tight.”


	5. Comfort Books and Comfort Food

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Courferre Week Day 5 -Domestic!Courferre  
> This small scene works as a complementary scene to my Courferre fake dating fic As If but can be read and understood independently. It is set after the first part of chapter 5 (which hasn't been published yet...)

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead. It’s time to wake up and face the world.”

Courfeyrac groaned and pulled the blanket further over his head. With a soft laugh, Combeferre joined him in bed.

“Oh darling. You’re the one who asked me to wake you when I come back from work so you can enjoy the early hours of the morning.” He weaselled his way under the covers. “Oh wow, it’s really warm here!”

“I took a hot water bottle to bed last night cause I felt lonely,” Courfeyrac mumbled, voice still muffled from the blanket.

“Did you talk to Enjolras about it?”

“No, he was already asleep when it started.”

Combeferre nodded softly. “I understand. Do you want to sleep some more or would you rather listen to me talk about work while we cuddle, hm?” Yes, he knew very well that it would be torture to have a sleepy, warm, lonely and therefore clingy Courfeyrac right next to him… but who said Combeferre always had to be the good guy? He was allowed to indulge every now and then, especially if he helped his friend with it, too.

“Please, let’s cuddle. You can fall asleep, you know? Do you want to change first?”

“Nah.” Combeferre somehow managed to strip down to his boxers under the covers and snuggled close. Courfeyrac immediately turned around and pressed against Combeferre. “I also don’t intend on falling asleep. What kind of friend would I be if I were to fall asleep on you now?”

“Still an amazing friend because it doesn’t mean you don’t love me, it just means you’re really tired. Can you tell me about work?”

“Of course.” He kissed the top of Courfeyrac’s head and held him close, his chest pressed against Courfeyrac’s back. “I had a proper lunch break today! Well, lunch… it was past midnight, but we still considered it lunch.”

“Who’s we?”

“Joly and I. We hardly ever get a break together but we got lucky today. It was nice to see a familiar and friendly face. One of my patients died today, an old lady. It was not unexpected.”

“But still sad, I know. Still upsetting.”

“Yeah.” Combeferre nodded softly and snuggled even closer to Courfeyrac. “What do you say, I make us something to eat and we have breakfast in bed? I can fill up your hot water bottle again.”

“That would be lovely. It’s getting a bit cold, even though we’re both very warm people. Not to say, we’re super hot.”

Combefere laughed softly and kissed his cheek. He got out of bed and went into the kitchen. Once the kettle was turned on, he made some coffee and started on breakfast. Croissants, different types of jam, two cups of coffee on a tray, and Combeferre balanced it all carefully until he could place it on the bedside table.

“Here’s the hot water bottle.” He slipped back under the covers and sat against the headboard. “After breakfast, I’m going to take a quick shower, alright? And then I’ll be right back in bed with you, cuddling and reading you a book.”

“That sounds amazing.” Courfeyrac sat up properly and reached over Combeferre to grab his cup of coffee.

 

It took Combeferre a considerable amount of effort not to kiss him right then and there. Soon. Just so soon. He only had to wait a little longer until he was allowed to kiss him.

“Which book are we going to read? The one you’re currently reading?”

“You really want me to read you the Moth-Saga?” Combeferre raised his eyebrows and looked at Courfeyrac.

“Maybe not… Maybe you could read Harry Potter to me?”

“Of course. Which one would you like to hear?”

Courfeyrac beamed at him. “ _’The villagers of Little Hangleton still called it “the Riddle House,” even though it had been many years since the Riddle family had lived there.’_ ”

“The fourth one, alright! I don’t understand your obsession with it. It’s always been my least favourite.”

“I know and I don’t get that. I think part of why I love it so much is because of Fleur. She’s French, a badass, an extremely talented witch, and hot. Compassionate, loving, self-assured. She was the best out of her entire school! Which, contrary to what the movie makes you believe, was not an all-girls school. She’s the fucking best.”

“But the whole plot of the Triwizard Tournament is so stupid! No one can see anything! They’re under water, or far away in the arena with the dragons. Plus, Harry needed a signed permission to go to a village at age 13. A village where nothing can happen! But sure, let’s just have that 14-year-old kid participate in a potentially deathly completion because a goblet said so, no permission needed here, nope.”

“Darling. Babe. Sweetheart. Petit chou. You do realise that the Marauders turned into Animagi and that in order do so, they had to have leaves in their mouths for a month with no break, right? And you’re telling me McGonagall, an Animagus herself, didn’t know what was going on? The entire series is full of plot holes Don’t question it too much, don’t take away my pleasure.” Courfeyrac pouted and looked up at him through his lashes.

Combeferre groaned and sighed in defeat. “I would never take away your pleasure. Ever. I might delay it but…”

“You are a menace, Combeferre.”

“Mhm, I am, but you love it.”

Courfeyrac laughed softly. “I do. It’s intriguing.” He scooted a little closer and leaned his head against Combeferre’s shoulder. “This is nice, having breakfast in bed with you.”

“I’m just glad it’s your bed. Now all the crumbs are here and you have to sleep on them.” He kissed Courfeyrac’s forehead softly. “I enjoy it, too.” Combeferre smiled down at him and took a sip from his coffee.

It was truly nice, to behave like a couple every once in a while. Minus the kissing and touching Combeferre knew they wouldn’t be able to keep at bay if they were a couple. Oh, the big If. Maybe one day. But until then he’d cherish the small moments, the little touches, the longing and lasting gazes.

“I’m gonna take a shower now, chaton. I think I still smell like hospital and disinfectant. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry, you just smell like yourself. Which is very pleasant, just saying. Enjoy your shower.”

 Combeferre kissed his forehead again before heading off to the bathroom. He really didn’t shower for long, just enough to feel clean again. Soon, he slipped back under the covers, the book in hand.

“You ready?”

“Mhm, very ready,” Courfeyrac nodded. “Are we gonna cook something together in the evening?”

“Of course we are. Do you feel like chickpea curry with beef?”

“Please, yes. That’s comfort food for me ever since your mum made it for the first time.”

Combeferre chuckled and pulled Courferyrac a little closer, running his fingers over his friend’s arm softly. “You were so upset after you didn’t get the lead in out theatre production. You were, what, 8 years old back then? Everyone tried to patiently explain to you that you couldn’t play Juliet.”

“Enjolras was Romeo, of course I wanted to be Juliet. You know how nervous he was about the whole thing, especially because the girl really wanted to kiss him. So I figured if I’m Juliet, he doesn’t have to kiss me, if he doesn’t want to. I just wanted to help.”

“I know. Back then I admired it just as much as I admire it now. And the whole ordeal gave us the perfect comfort food for whenever one of us three is upset. Are you feeling a little better though?”

“A little. I just want to cuddle and listen to your voice and your heartbeat, okay?”

“Perfectly okay.” Combeferre waited until Courfeyrac had shifted, his head now on his chest, before he began reading the book to Courfeyrac.  

This close with him, Combeferre damned himself for ever deciding that, of course, staying away from Courfeyrac was the best choice for now. He craved him so much. He craved the domesticity of a romantic relationship, he craved Courfeyrac’s lips on his skin, fingertips ghosting across arms and collarbones. He wanted to finally call him his boyfriend. Yes, that one over there with the cute dimples and the crazy hair, that’s his boyfriend, his lover, his best friend, his heart.

Hopefully soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Maybe join me on [tumblr](http://mariuspondmercy.tumblr.com/)?


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